[Β©2010 BY CLINTON09; ALL CHARACTERS ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18 WITH IDENTITIES DISGUISED; THIS STORY HAS A 'HARDER EDGE' THAN MOST; BE WARNED: HERE BE DRAGONS; FOR AGES 21 OR ABOVE]
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It was a night to remember, to be sure. My parents were taking me out for dinner. Now in most such cases, the parents are comfortable in their middle age so their offspring have to let 'daddy pay'. That wasn't the case here. It seems my poor misunderstood father, Mal, had antagonized too many employers, with his occasional drinking and excessive health care claims. Sadly, he really was sick now, though it was mostly related to drinking and related stress. Whatever the root cause, he was an 'old' 52, looking gaunt and even frailβand he made me pick up the check. It's always sad when your father opens his wallet and the only things in there are a picture that came with the wallet and some bus transfers.
My mother Sue was 41. She had had to put up with a lot of anguish from her marriage. She was just old enough to be a believer in marriage, thru thick and thin. Dad, who I called her 'old man', had insisted that she be a housewife, even though his income stream was pathetic. They only got by with mom's lifelong grant payments from a relative.
I had moved away from home when the clock struck '18' for me. It worked out great, too, as I worked my way thru college. With a BBA in management from a good business school, a large company made me the manager of their big regional office. Heady stuff for a 21 year old, but it seemed to be working. The only snafu was that my secretary had to quit.
Darlene was a gorgeous brunette whose great figure earned her a nice swollen belly. She would now be cared for by her husband when he got home from work. He was so proud of their baby. Personally, I have no idea how she got in that condition; presumably her husband did something. It certainly wasn't me...certainly not in my office seven months ago...not during a thunderstorm when the power went out..impossible. Admittedly, we might have gotten a little carried away that day, but I distinctly remember asking her if she was on the pill. I forgot her answer, but I didn't really care what the answer was at the time. Lord, I admit to pumping a lot of potent seed into her unprotected and oh so welcoming fertile womb. Oh, mama.
Anyway, at dinner my parents dropped 'the bomb' on me. With no job, dad had no health coverage. The little allowance they got from mom's dear departed rich uncle now was not adequate. They would need my help financially. Humbling stuff, to ask your 21 year old for help.
A strange thing happened at that very moment. The pendulum, the balance of power, had transferred to me. Though we were in public, I felt like demanding he sink to his knees before me, as I grabbed his bride to be my own. I purposely dropped my napkin. I bent under the table and took a long gander at my mother's shapely legs. Lord forgive me, but I had pined for her for so long, the prospect of it being possible finally made me stiffen. When I got back up and scouted her low cut blouse that completed the package. I got as hard as titanium, ten inches of solid metal. There was that eternal and infernal drive between men to possess the alpha female, and there was no female higher up than my lovely mother.
The reason that my gorgeous 41 year old mom had dressed so fβking hot was that they thought she might hire on as my secretary [I related to them my office 'crisis' due to Darlene's resignation.] When I expressed doubts, they insisted that I give her a chance at least. I said I would give her two weeks, whereupon I would hire a temp until Darlene returned.
It was so odd to be at the office at 9am, waiting for my own mother as a subordinate employee. She arrived at 9:15am, knocked on my door, and came in. She apologized profusely, saying that she had to 'tend to' her old man. I was going to 'lay the law' on her about being on time, regardless of our relationship.
Just as I was about to say something critical, she sat down with her steno pad, folding her beautiful legs. I completely lost my train of thought. I was simply staring at her short skirt (daring for a 41 year old, some six inches above her knee) and those daring pumps (the latest fashion, just like the infobabes on cable news.) Her blouse was white, her full 36 D-cup breasts putting enormous strain on its big pink buttons. In spite of band-aids, her bra and that blouse, mom's nipples had popped and now thrust out angrily against the micrometer thin material of that blouse.
Me: "Is it too cold in here, mom, I can turn it up?"
Mom: "No, it's fine. Why did you ask that?"
Me: [Looking down shyly.] "Well, umm, there are certain 'indicators' that we men assume indicate cold in regard to women and..."
Mom: [Looking down at herself, somewhat embarrassed.] "I wish I could attribute that to the cold, but actually... Look, Jimmy, I never had the time, or the reason, to tell you about our home life, especially once you left for school. Your father was never a great lover; he just wasn't 'equipped in that way'. Well, if you combine his natural shortcomings with being unemployed more and more, and sober less and less, his effectiveness in bed went from tolerable to laughable. As a result, I have been 'without' for three years now. Three years of having this figure but no lovers; three years of being fertile with no REAL man to turn to for love, affection, and perhaps that second child I always wanted. I have been so hot, so horny, so ready, if your father had ordered a pizza delivery, I would have jumped the delivery guy's bones, right there at the door. Even now, I am so fucking horny...please forgive your tired, broken down mom, but I need it badly. I was hoping I could get thru the morning, but now..."
To my utter amazement and thrill, my conservative unobtainable mother was approaching my large executive swivel chair with an odd look on her. It didn't appear that she wanted to discuss new orbital anomalies in the rings of Saturn; no, it appeared that she wanted me!
Well, one can imagine the force of collision between a woman totally deprived of any affection for at least three years and her musclebound, well-hung son, who considered women conquests, with his gorgeous mother as the ultimate achievement.
My aggressive mom used the back of her hand to send my desk contents flying. She climbed atop the desk after shedding her skimpy outfit, awaiting the welcome assault of her big-cocked son. I got aboard the huge cherry wood desk, the hard surface frankly painful to climb over.
I was thinking of all the romantic things I had imagined doing once this momentous day arrived. Well, in the event, with a desk as comfortable as asphalt, I just went ahead and entered my mother with absolutely no fanfare or foreplay. I didn't know when else I might have a chance to fuck, and maybe knock up, my gorgeous mom. All I knew was I had this one golden opportunity and I wasn't going to squander it on an 'around the world tour'.
My oversized uncut cockhead dragged across the sensitive tissues of my MILF mother's tight, warm, welcoming vagina.
For some reason, I began to think back about events mom and I shared now that we were finally becoming intimate.**************************
I stared at my loving mother, there beneath me. There she was, my mom...all of those kisses good night when I was young. I went to sleep so many times just hoping for a second good night peck. Then, when I was old enough to notice, there were those mornings when she only wore a diaphanous peignoir, feigning surprise that someone was up that early.
Those damn nightgowns; in the early morning darkness, the light from the fridge was like a magical x-ray, allowing me to see my beautiful mother in microscopic detail. My little blonde mother had a Barbie-doll figure almost a dream for her young son (i.e. me) gawking from the breakfast nook. Her nipples would erect like thumbs from the cold fridge air. That nightie normally ended in a frilly bell-bottom fringe, a few inches below her panties. Her tanned perfect legs were always on display, whether in trampy high slide slippers or simply on her gorgeous smooth feet, her latest choice of polish showing on those perfect little toes. Dear old mom, who always stayed up waiting to see that I got home safely from my dates. As I stare down at those sparkling blue eyes, I remember that one night. I had had a frustrating time with Sally; we were going 'steady' as they said in those days. She claimed to be chaste. That was noble and all, but it left me with a roaring hard-on and nowhere to go. Stumbling in at 2 am, there was my beautiful mother, her book having dropped to the floor as she nodded off. I was so hot at that moment that I went over to that couch. I quietly removed a slipper and stroked her smooth oh-so-sexy foot. I wanted to pick her up in my arms and carry her off to my room. I was ready to drag my mother off like some caveman might have, venting all of my frustrations and pent-up passion from that date into my wonderful mother. God, I was going to fuck her brains out. It was totally insane, what with her husband, my dad, only a few feet away in their room. Crazy or not, I put my arms around her sleeping form and lifted her up. Mom, in my arms! Finally! THEN, just as I was about to whisk her away for the night of my young dreams, her old man stirred in the bedroom. I quickly put her back down.